


Orlesian Birds

by ashez2ashes



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Attempted Seduction, F/M, Spies & Secret Agents, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:34:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22324138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashez2ashes/pseuds/ashez2ashes
Summary: Leliana attempts to seduce a King. She gets much more (and much less) than she bargained for.
Relationships: Leliana/Cailan Theirin
Kudos: 2





	Orlesian Birds

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Originally written for a Dragon Age: Origins kink meme. I dredged this up when looking for stuff that I have never put up on fanfiction.net. I think the challenge was to come up with a pairing that hadn't been done yet? I think this is the only sex scene I've ever wrote.

Orlesians really knew how to throw parties.

Cailan sipped his sparkling wine and stared at the Orlesian finery with not a little bit of envy. The masquerade was huge, taking up nearly the entire beach side villa of Orlais’s empress. Extravagant mage globes lit the large ballroom so brightly it might as well have been daylight. Silk banners crisscrossed the ceiling and everything appeared to sparkle, from the silverware to the jewel adorned Orlesian nobles. And nothing, absolutely nothing, smelled like dogs.

If only the Ferelden mages lived closer to Denerim, perhaps his palace could at least get a few mage light globes. But alas, he was forced to use torches. He even had to import his hand-woven silk. He practically had to live like a barbarian. It was tragic really.

And the women, by the maker THE WOMEN. They were just so much sweeter, so many more curves and they smelled like crushed flowers and wine. A particular one had caught his eye tonight, a young bard decked head to toe in black feathers. Her bright red hair contrasted wonderfully with the raven feathered gown.

Cailan couldn’t help being transfixed as she glided toward him. Her feathered gown gave the impression that she was floating. Flashes of creamy white skin between the slit of the gown made his blood warm. Small tendrils of red-gold hair lay tantalizingly over the mounds of her ample breasts. There was nothing like the cut of an Orlesian gown. Surely even Loghain would appreciate such a sight.

He took her hand as she neared and kissed the large ruby ring on her left hand. Her eyes were an enchanting shade of emerald. Even with the black eye mask obscuring her face he could tell she was a beauty. His own mask was bright gold, but still seemed to pale in comparison to hers. Maybe he should have thought of a theme?

“So this is the woman with the voice of a nightingale. Your performance was enchanting, my lady.” He released her hand and flashed one of his most charming smiles. 

“Thank you sir.” She curtsied and dipped her head oh so demurely. 

“Care for a dance, oh bird of paradise?” He held out his hand invitingly, and was gratified to see her giggle at his dreadful pun.

The bard took his hand and stepped close. “Hold me tightly then, or I may fly away.”

Cailan felt a warmth of excitement begin to spread across his chest. “A fellow lover of bad puns?” The Ferelden King spun her into the dancing fray with a chuckle. “Be still my heart.”

They spun about the room, soaring through the flock of glitter and gold effortlessly. Cailan was delighted to discover that the bard was a magnificent dancer. Her footwork was light and she anticipated his every move. Her red hair flew about her as if caught in the wind, and the rhythmic swish of her feathered skirts was like a music in of itself. There were like one unified force of gold and onyx slipping between fellow dancers and Orlesian finery. Cailan’s own tutelage in Orlesian dance had not been inconsiderable, but even he found himself pushed to his limits. It was exhilarating and dangerous and by the third dance he wanted nothing more than to spin her into a deserted palace balcony and ravage her like a savage.

So he did just that. A King was not accustomed to being denied.

The bard and Cailan waltzed past the throng of party goers into a deserted castle balcony. The bard’s breathe released in a whoosh as her back was abruptly pushed against the stone wall. Bits of flowered ivy fell from the wall as the bard was held against it, and Cailan could just make out in the moonlight the dainty white petals settling in the bard’s hair. 

Sweat glistened on her heaving bosom, and Cailan could no longer resist leaning forward and inhaling his captive’s scent. The sweet tang of feminine sweat mixed with a hint of something flowery that reminded him strangely of the Brecilian forest. It was intoxicating.

“I believe I have caught you, my pretty little bird,” Cailan whispered in her ear.

“Are you sure you are not the one being ensnared?” The bard whispered back and boldly ran her hand along his inner thigh.

Cailan was momentarily transfixed by the moonlight glinting from her deep green eyes but rallied himself in what he thought was a very valiant effort at being sexy. “I certainly don’t mind being caught. Or caged or tied up or whatever metaphor will end with you beneath me…?”

The bard laughed, low and sultry. “How refreshingly forthright. Yes, let’s go to your room where I will ravage you. Consider me caught, sir.”

The King of Ferelden held out his hand and the two dashed like thieves in the night towards his room.

His personal body guard was following of course, but would have the decency to hide in the shadows as always. Not that Cailan minded having an audience. He was a magnificent specimen of manhood. Seeing his glorious body was like a perk of the man’s job as far as Cailan was concerned.

The door slammed open as Calian and the bard stumbled in.

Her tongue plundered his mouth and her hands tangled in his hair, pulling, tugging, twisting, as they slowly made their way to the large poster bed. Deftly, she reached for the golden laces of his breeches, loosing the strings and releasing some of the near painful pressure on his member. In response, he sucked on the pulse point of her neck and was gratified to hear a straggled gasp leave her lips. 

Cailan felt the back of his legs hit the edge of the bed. The bard suddenly pulled away and kicked him in the chest lightly with her high heeled foot. He saw a brief glimpse of bright red dainty toe nails as he fell back onto the mattress with a thud.

The bard pounced on him and straddled Cailan with a triumphant grin. Her surprisingly muscular thighs gripped the sides of his legs and she leaned upwards and arched her back. Cailan reached up and stroked the silky softness of her legs. They were like pale smooth cream, practically glowing in the dim room.

Cailan was nearly startled when the bard suddenly stood up and with a theatric flourish undid two fasteners on the sides of her gown. The feathery bottom half of her dress fell away with a whoosh. With a deft flick of her toes, the bard flicked the garment across the room. Tiny bits of black feathers drifted in the air lazily. The bard’s grin turned sultry as she towered over him in a black bustier and matching lace small clothes. Cailan took a moment to admire the Orlesian scenery. Especially the Orlesian hills. The hills were awesome.

Cailan slid himself fully onto the bed as the bard crouched on her hands and knees at the foot of the huge poster bed. The Fereldon King felt his heart beat even louder in his ears as the bard stalked toward him on her hands and knees like a stealthy jungle cat. She solidified the imagery as she straddled him once more like a predator conquering its prey. On impulse, Cailan reached for her black feathered mask. She grabbed his hands before they reached her face and then held them down to the bed with surprising force.

He certainly was the one who had been caught.

“Let’s leave the masks on,” she purred and licked his bottom lip. “It’s more… exciting this way.”

“I like the way you think dear bard,” Cailan replied, noting that she was also still wearing her high heeled shoes. The bard released his hands giving him the chance to bring them up to squeeze her plump firm backside.

The bard plucked a black feather from her mask and then leaned back on her heels, appraising the Ferelden king’s prone form. 

“You’re wearing entirely too much.” The bard gestured regally with a wave of her hand. “Take your tunic off. Now.”

Cailan ripped off his gold and silver tunic so enthusiastically buttons flew across the room. He eagerly reached for his gold breaches as well and the bard smacked his hand away.

“Not yet.”

Cailan tried his best not to pout and leaned back once again. His obedience was rewarded when the bard leaned forward and delicately traced the lines of Cailan’s muscled chest with the black feather. Tendrils of pleasure trailed wherever the feather glided across his skin.

“Tease,” he gritted through his teeth but made no move to sit up.

The feather drifted upward across his chest where it made small circles around his nipples. Cailan grasped the sheet below him as the bard leaned forward and licked each nipple in turn. He could feel her glossy hair trail across his hips as she blew on his chest.

His own hand crept toward his aching hardness, hoping to relieve some of the pressure himself. The bard smacked his hand away.

“Did I tell you it was time yet?” The bard grabbed a handful of his blond hair and kissed him roughly. She bit his lip nearly hard enough to draw blood as she pull away. The catlike grin returned. “You will have to be punished.”

The red haired bard reached for his pants, finally sliding them off his sweat soaked form. Before he could enjoy the newly released pressure, the bard reached forward and tongued him through his small clothes. Cailan groaned deeply and arched off the mattress. The slick wet heat was nearly overwhelming, even with the clothe barrier. His body was already teased to a fever pitch, and he struggled not to end the night prematurely.

His body guard would surely gossip about it, and it would be terribly embarrassing

Just when he thought he was nearing his limit, the vixen pulled back and literally ripped his small clothes off.

“Those were my favorite!” Cailan laughed breathlessly. The bard’s lips were quirking and he could see at the edges of the vixen a light girlish laugh just wanting to slip out. Encouraged by her reaction, he added, “They were my lucky pair.”

“A lucky pair of small clothes?” She raised a sculpted eyebrow.

“They’re working right now, in fact.” He waggled his eyebrows.

Now she did giggle, a sweet melodic sound that he liked almost as much as the vixen.

Cailan pinched her backside.

She giggled again and swatted his hand away. Her emerald eyes gleamed with mischief. “Shall I have to tie you up?”

“Just as long as it’s not with my lucky small clothes.” He gave her another one of his dashing grins and kissed her. His tongue slid against hers and traced the contours of her red lips. The move gave him time to wrest back his tenuous control.

The bard pulled back with a gasp and he suddenly felt the feather slid across his engorged manhood, soft and light. It left a trail of fire in its wake. The soft touch was maddening, and it took every last inch of his control not to flip her over and fuck her like a barbarian. When she began to use her mouth, her tongue swirling around the head and sucking at the pearl on the tip he really did lose it.

Orlais thought Ferelden was full of barbarians anyway. Might as well live up to expectations.

Cailan sat up and flipped the Orlesian bard over onto her knees so that her dripping sex was presenting itself to him like a mabari in heat. He grabbed her hard thighs and ran his length down her wet center. They moaned in unison. He could practically feel the vibrations in his manhood. He teased her for awhile, gliding back and forth. Tormenting her as she had him.

He had meant to drive her to the same precipice that she had nearly thrown him over, but found after several moments he simply couldn’t. He was too far gone, too overwhelmed with the need for her. Cailan gripped himself, ready to enter her… and hesitated.

Cailan flipped the bard over again flat on her back, gripped her thighs in his hands, and spread her legs wide.

She looked coyly up at him, somehow still confident even with all she had spread out before him. “Indecisive are we?”

“I want to see your beautiful eyes,” he answered honestly, a little surprised at himself.

The bard unexpectedly blushed beneath him.

With a grunt, Cailan drove himself into her wet heat in one decisive thrust. He was too worked up to take it slow. If the cum trailing down the bard’s opening was any indication, she wasn’t either.

He gripped her thighs tightly enough to bruise, thrusting over and over into her warmth. Cailan lost himself in the sensations of her, the warmth, the taste of the sweat on her breasts, the wet slapping of their joining, the rich silk of her upper thighs, the soft red down of her sex, his own intense animalistic grunts as he thrust her into the headboard. The ornate headboard banged loudly against the wall. 

And the bard met it all thrust for thrust. She arched her back, emerald eyes glazing over with lust. Sweat plastered to her forehead. Her well manicured fingernails bit into his biceps when he twisted the nub between her legs, leaving aching welts on his arms. And through it all her nightingale voice urged him on with grunts and pleas of her own. Don’t stop. Faster. Cage me. Make me yours. Faster. Harder. Deeper. I’m yours. Don’t stop. Finally, she cried out, gouging his biceps and pleading obscenities to the maker. 

Cailan came with a jolt, hands gripping her hips hard enough to bruise.

Blackness overtook him as he rolled from her. The last he knew of her was a soft satisfied giggle as he fell asleep on a bed of torn feathers and soiled sheets.

\----

Several hours later…

Leliana clutched an envelope to her bosom and smiled gleefully. She had seduced a king! Marjoline would be so impressed! And better yet, she’d “procured” some of his papers! Who knew he would keep an important looking envelope just laying about his room? Perhaps, she would even buy herself some shoes as a personal reward. Oh! Maybe the baby blue ones with the little pink rhinestones she’d seen in that shop window last week…

Leliana sat down on her bed and delicately broke the seal on the documents. What would they be? Trade agreements? Love letters to an Orlesian princess? She could barely contain her excitement as she ever so slowly peered at the documents…

She faltered.

MAKER’S HAIRY BALLS! WHAT WAS THIS SHIT?!

In horror, she glanced down at a crude sketch of a childish King Cailan riding a unicorn. The crude drawing was brandishing a sword at badly drawn darkspawn. There was an arrow next to them labeled “bad guys”.

She desperately flipped through the rest of the parchment.

The next was a page full of stick figures with giant bosoms.

She flipped to the next page.

There was another crude self sketch of King Cailan this time drawn with a huge penis.

In despair, she dumped the envelope upside down and watched as a single solitary candy wrapper fell out and gently wafted down to the bed.

  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  



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